Regrets of the Old
by InkQuillz
Summary: Uther has many regrets. -COMPLETE- It was only meant to be a one shot as well, lol. Added Chapter: Warnings: Trailer Spoilers for Le Morte D'Arthur. Ep. 13 and Character Death.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: **_The characters in this fiction belong to the BBC, Julian Murphy and Julian Jones._

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Uther regrets many things but most of all, he regrets that his son is a stranger.

((Also, check out my Merlin forum on this site…))

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The corridors are as cold as the night outside; one would have thought the amount of bracketed torches would warm the castle up, but every fibre of his being felt like ice. That was one thing he hated to admit about life, or his life. How cold he was all the time, his blood was like ice, running thick and hard through his veins, freezing his heart and making his wrinkled face appear so much older and so much harsher than he would have liked to have been. There had been a time when he thought he'd never feel the icy, death-like hand of war; he thought he'd never feel anger if only he could stay in that moment, in that time. But he, he was the King and he had responsibility and he had always thought the responsibility of kingdom outweighed his responsibilities of a husband or of a father.

But finally he stops at the door he stops at every night. His guards ignore him as always, granting him the privacy he so desperately needed. He hated weakness and every night he showed it, at the same time, the same place and for the same reason… He doesn't pause as he pushes the door open and steps inside, letting the heavy oak slide shut, he presses the lock down and walks through the large room before stopping at the four-poster bed and drawing back the right-hand curtain. He inhales sharply, taking in a deep breath, the air suddenly warmer; then he smiles softly before moving to sit down on the edge of the large, king-size bed.

He places his hand to Arthur's cheek, he is warm and it sends shots of heat through Uther's body and he doesn't move it, not even when Arthur groans in his sleep and shifts so that he is no longer on his back. He has turned, facing his father, his legs ever so slightly curled upward. Only when his son has settled back down does he brush the same hand through his blond hair.

There were of course many things he regretted over the course of his life, he doesn't know how to mend the one thing left to change and yet he knows he must. He would die soon, he'd be no more than a memory and above all he wanted Arthur to know just how proud he was, even if he did not show it in the fatherly way he was supposed to. He had always looked upon Arthur as a King would, not as a father should. He had never told Arthur that he loved him, he hadn't ever told anyone he loved them, not even his darling wife who he had, with all his heart, loved.

Arthur grumbled in his sleep, his face scrunching up for a moment before he relaxes. Once again Uther moves his hand from the young Prince's hair, letting it rest on his arm, which is thrown out carelessly over the side of the bed, his hands hanging low over the wooden under-frame.

It never ceased to amaze him just how much Arthur looked like his mother, had her hair, her nose, her mouth… A mouth that was now smiling at whatever he was dreaming of. That was likely the biggest reason he couldn't bare to love Arthur publicly, as a son rather than an heir. How could he lose his son just as he had lost his wife?

He hated to admit it, but he still bore the scars of the feelings he had soon after the Queen's death. She had died from an infection that even Gaius could not mend, an infection caused during Labour. She had lived for a few weeks, but she had been in so much pain that Uther couldn't bring himself to visit her often. She had remained in the Nursery the whole time, had died with Arthur snuggled into her, he had been fast asleep just as he was now and had not woken until he had wanted feeding; not even when his wet-nurse had picked him up away from the corpse of his mother.

At the memory, Uther frowned. He had allowed harsh emotions to come between a relationship he had promised her he would have. Her words were the clearest in his mind every day, he heard them every waking moment and knew he would till the day he had died, and yet he had still let her down. He hadn't done anything he had promised.

He remembered it as clear as day. She had been sat in a large, comfortable bed, her pregnant belly so prominent under the scarlet covers. He had been sat in a high backed chair beside her, his larger, rough hands wrapped around her small, soft, paler ones. She had been smiling as her free hand stroked her large bump.

"_I shall give you an Heir, Uther." She smiled brighter, "He'll be a most wonderful Prince, you shall teach him to fight and ride and rule… I shall love him and teach him to read and write." She patted her belly then turned to beam brightly at him. He had merely smiled in return. He knew then he was not a father, the heir would be taught by Knight's and training men, by teachers… He would not have any part in the boy's upbringing; that was her job._

"_He'll be so beautiful. He'll be perfect, Uther."_

He knew she could not determine whether or not she birthed a boy or a girl and so he had nodded, humouring her as he always did when she spoke of the baby. If she had lived long enough, she'd have been such a wonderful mother. She would spend hours fantasising. She had decided he'd have Uther's light brown hair, her blue eyes, her soft lips for she had berated Uther countless at how rough his lips were to kiss, chapped from years of enduring the chill of the outside. He never took a word of hers seriously, he missed her though. Every fibre of his being wished for her to be here, to see the son she produced. She had not been far off in her descriptions of what he'd look like, just the hair.

He reached up and soothed Arthur's hair once again. The past few months he had found himself here; Ever since that hag had threatened Arthur's life for the life of her son Thomas. He hadn't admitted it but when he had seen the dagger his heart had plunged to the pits of his stomach, he had been unable to move, to even breath until that servant boy of Gaius' suddenly jumped out of know where and knocked him to the floor.

Ever since that night he had found himself checking on Arthur, watching him sleep and remembering how much his mother would have loved to have been here to do the same. If only she had not been taken ill, Arthur had been born earlier and in the drama of it all she had caught an infection.

Loving his son was a lot harder than he had ever thought possible, but if he was to change just one thing. It would be how Arthur saw him, he had wasted too much time of Arthur's life, had not comforted him when he was a small child and had not shown him the sort of love that others showed their own children. Just after Arthur's birth he remembered a market boy screaming to the square that his wife had given birth to two healthy little girls. Had celebrated, had shown them off. Arthur on the other hand had been kept away from the public eye till he was well into his first year.

Again Arthur mumbled in his sleep. He turned again, pulling the covers as best he could whilst his father pinned them down. Uther stands up and lets the covers ride up Arthur's shoulders as he turns his back, still blissfully unaware of his father's presence. He beds over the blond one last time, presses a kiss to his temple before leaving as silently as he came in. Arthur would be King sooner than he would really like but he knew, with more training of course, his son would make him proud. He always did, all that was left was for him to somehow make Arthur proud of him; a hard thing to do when he knew nothing more than the basics about his beloved heir.

But he could try; all he could do was try. And as he lay back in his bed; the moonlight flooding his room and the chill returning to deep within him. Uther knew there and then that he had failed but he had time to amend it.


	2. Chapter 2

His heels clipped hard against the cold stone floors of the corridors below him, behind him the tap of Morgana's heels and the hurried thuds of the Physician and the Prince's Manservant. In his arms Arthur's blond head bobbled up and down as he raced toward his quarters. No one knew exactly what had happened but the minuet Arthur had stood up from dinner, his face blotchy and beads of sweat sticking to his forehead, he had collapsed to the floor, unmoving and his breathing shallow. Had he been awake or in the least bit aware of what was going on, Uther was sure he'd be humiliated, being carried in the public eye in such a way.

"Door." He barked and the Manservant bounced forward and pushed it open before stepping in to hold it open for Uther. He wasted no time in laying Arthur down on the bed, the man servant immediately made way on taking off his books and undoing the heavy red jacket Arthur had been wearing.

Uther however was not paying attention to the boy, his eyes were now focused on Gaius who was murmuring instructions to Morgana and her maid, whom he had not known had followed them, the maid girl hurried out the door he knew her name but couldn't be troubled to remember it at the moment. Morgana too was ignored as she hurried past him and perched herself at the edge of Arthur's bed and soothed his hair from his face.

"Well?"

"I'll have to look him over before I can diagnose him…" Gaius trailed off and looked toward Merlin who was now leaning over Arthur, then turning to whisper something to Morgana.

"Then look at him damn it!"

Gaius walked past, head bowed in respect as he passed the seething king, not that Uther really noticed him, he'd spun on his heel and was now watching as the old man sat on the opposite side of the mattress to Morgana, they all knew there was nothing he could do without his equipment but that didn't stop Uther's frustration.

The girl finally returned, she carried a large case and a text book, it's peeling lettering unreadable and disguised under her arm and she scurried to Gaius and passed him the stuff before stepping back toward the window and watching on with interest.

"Out, all of you." Uther growled stepping to the bed, the maid looked to Morgana and the manservant before nodding and running out. The boy went to follow when Gaius looked up.

"I shall need Merlin here, Your Highness." His old voice wavered but not out of fear or defiance, just the old voice back packing in as it always did late at night.

"And I shan't leave him." Morgana chanted. Uther's dark eyes narrowed at her but she stared back, equally annoyed.

"Morgana…" His voice was levelled and he noticed only barely as Gaius gave his own ward a look, one which was returned with a small smile that disappeared as quickly as it was passed.

"Uther, I can't just leave."

"You'll do as I say, now out!"

"My lady, if whatever he has is contagious you may be at risk of catching it…"

She looked around the room, eyes resting on each male for a split second before she finally sighed in defeat and stood, Uther noticed Arthur's pale hand falling from her own grasp as she stood.

Once Morgana had left Uther didn't seem to know what to do with himself next then finally regained the air of superiority he usually held so firmly in his grasp.

"I shall leave you to it. I want to know what's wrong immediately." And with that he left, he couldn't stand in the same room as a sick Arthur for long, the pair would soon see the weakness he was feeling.

Xx

Two hours later Gaius appeared in his chambers, head bowed, awaiting command to speak. Uther granted it within seconds of his appearance and even stood from his high backed chair and moved toward the elderly Physician.

"Well?"

"Your Highness, I was unsuccessful in diagnosing Arthur's sickness." The old man shook his head sadly. "I have left young Merlin with the Prince and I shall go back to my study to research but I am afraid I have not come across this before."

"I- He's?"

"I'm afraid I can not determine the severity of it until I know what it is that ails him."

Uther did not answer for a long while before nodding, "And is he not showing any… Physical signs?"

"Not as of yet, My Lord, but I have instructed Merlin on what to look out for…"

"You trust this boy to know upon sight a malady? He doesn't appear too bright." It would have been humorous if the situation were dangerous but his boys life lay in the balance, he didn't want anyone but the very best looking after him.

"I assure you sir; he could not be in better hands." With that Gaius bowed out and Uther followed. They parted ways at the corner and Uther trod towards Arthur's room.

As Gaius had said, the simple servant boy was bowed over Arthur whispering words of encouragement and almost pleading him to just get well. It made him seethe despite the innocence of it, willing Arthur to wake would not make it happen, any other time and the boy would have been sent out just for his pure ignorance and naivety. However for the time being all that mattered was his son, whom at this moment in time looked like a small child laid out on the bed that looked for once, too large for him. His blond hair stuck to his forehead and beads of sweat covered his face, his cheeks were a deep red and his lips shook as he groaned out in agony.

"What did he say?" Uther barked at the boy and making him jump. He clearly had not noticed the arrival of the king and was now stood straight, he paused a moment before replying a shaky tone.

"Oh, nothing, my lord, he is just moaning."

And so he was, as Uther neared him, he realised he was still out cold and that he was mumbling, just as he did when he was sleeping peacefully. It nearly made him smile but he choked it back and reached out to sweep the hair from Arthur's face. Only to pull it back instantly and stare bemused at his hand. It had felt like he had just thrust his hand into a fire or picked up a white hot poker.

"He is hot."

The boy looked up again and nodded, "Yes. I've been trying to cool him down," He indicated the bowl of water. "But Gaius said his fever is too far gone to be cooled by water."

Uther nodded and once again brushed Arthur's face, noticing how said boy leaned into his touch and made a small cry of pain through his parted lips, which now up close were chapped and swollen.

"Pass me a Goblet of Water." He commanded and the boy once again jumped to attention and flew toward the table faster than Uther had ever seen him move. Once the water was received he brought it to the Prince's lips, lifted his head slightly and poured some of the liquid down his throat, making sure to wet his lips as he did so.

He choked on it slightly but Uther just pushed his head forward more, watching as most of it dripped onto the blankets, once again Arthur made a moaning noise, his head lolling sideways into Uther's chest.

Handing the goblet back to the servant, Uther stroked his cheek, once again reminded of a small child rather than a man, or nearly a man. He wasn't completely of age just yet.

"Go back to Gaius; I was a diagnosis tonight so help him look for one!"

The boy looked hesitant before complying and heading out the door, looking back just as Uther rested his cheek on top of Arthur's head. They remained like that for a long while, Arthur sleeping and jutting around trying to find comfort and Uther holding the sick body to him and stroking his back in attempts to soothe him. He'd never been good with the sick; this was probably the third time in his life he'd done this; unless his insistence on a cure for Morgana counted though he doubted it. He hadn't held her like this.

_The first time had been his wife, just after she had given birth to Arthur and her pale and sickened body lay in the twisted sheets, covered in her blood, Uther had visited her. They had both known then she would die, it was only a matter of how long her life could be preserved. He had held her, kissed her and stroked her damp hair and shushed her into sleep, the bundled baby asleep beside them in a Wicker-cot. _

_The second had been when Arthur was but five, Uther had, had nothing to do with the boy up until then, he'd asked about him, noted his education and saw to it he had what he wanted but he had not conversed with him up until that day. He had been playing outside and his nurse had been called away, she had left him in the care of the guards who were all watching with amusement as the small child waddled his way across the gardens, stopping every now and then to pick up something in the grass. Uther had been passing, on his way back to the castle when the idiot boy had managed to trip and land head first on a rock. He had never heard such a sound by the boy sat up instantly and screamed, the Guards looked at each other in horror and made to step forward to pick him up, only causing the child to screech louder in protest; his little hands covered a relatively small cut on his head. It had only been in mere desperation had Uther stepped forth._

_When shouting at him had proved unsuccessful, Uther had bent down and removed the boy's hand from his head and proceeded to tell him that it wasn't going to scar and he'd be fine, he hadn't expected the words to mean anything to the screaming beast but he wasn't entirely sure what he was to say. The little blond creature had then stuck his arms up in the air, sniffling pathetically; small whimpers escaping his mouth now that his screams were dying down. He didn't want to pick him up, he didn't know where the thing had been or what sort of germs he could pass on, Uther had watched him playing with the mud only seconds before hand, but never-the-less he'd grabbed him under the arms and lifted him and held him at arms length. The thing's chubby little legs swinging below it wildly and his red face returning to a natural colour. Still it moved his hands in a sort of beckoning motion and Uther was somehow obliged to hold him closer. The blond had then buried his face in Arthur's neck, he cringed as he felt the dampness spreading but at least it had stopped crying now. He looked around at the amazed Guards and snapped for one of them to do something, the tallest of the three had replied they'd find a woman and returned minuets later to the paralysed king with a small, fat Irish woman in an apron. He wouldn't have been able to place a name to the woman if he had wanted to, but she was of the castle staff he knew that much._

"_Where is its nurse?" He snapped at her._

"_I don't know, Milord. I shall take _him_ and find her for you."_

"_Does he know you?" Uther looked down at the little boy who was now playing with the tie of his cape, seemingly amused by the bronze clasp._

"_I should think so, sir. He's in the kitchen with me an awful lot."_

"_And why is the prince in the kitchen?"_

"_Sarah hates to leave him and takes him with her when she dines; she's ever so fond of him." Once again she held out her arms to take him, but Uther clung to him._

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"If she does not wish to leave him then I suggest she dine when he sleeps or have someone else take over her duties. Prince Arthur is not to be in that Kitchen anymore, is that understood?"_

_The woman nodded and Uther handed the child over with great difficulty, Arthur had attached himself to the seam of his tunic, his little fingers were like pincers and he did not seem to want to let go but with one hard yank, the child was pushed off on the Irish woman and he was free to go but not before hearing the baby talk between the woman and his son,_

"_Aww, let us see that head, you poor little one."_

"_Ah bumped it." Arthur whined in a thick voice, Uther could almost see those little lips pursed into a pout but he didn't turn around to look._

He blinked out of the memory and realised a whole night had passed; the first signs of dawn were creeping over Camelot and still no signs of Gaius and his ward. He wanted to seek them out, throw books at them till they presented him with a theory but he couldn't bring himself to pry himself out of Arthur's room. It was then at he realised Arthur was murmuring childishly.

"Cold… I'm cold…"

He was the farthest thing from cold that Uther could tell, his skin felt like it was alight and it probably didn't help that he was still being cradled but each time he had tried to lower him to the mattress the prince had cried out and grasped his arm tightly, he knew why, he had thought he was falling but even with that knowledge the king had held him tightly, soothing comfort into his hair, replaying the same message over and over.

"You're ok, sleep now. Shush."

_Chapter 3 coming soon._


	3. Chapter 3

**A.N:** If you enjoy roleplaying, check out my Merlin role play site. It's going really well with some fantastic writers.  
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__The room was heated by the large fire blooming from the grate across the room, Gaius drifted in and out with various potions and horrid coloured liquids that he insisted on pouring down her throat. Igraine however was now staring over the cot, her finger tight in the grasp of the small pink, wrinkled creature lying within it. Uther sat and watched on as she gurgled to the sleeping prince, he wondered what exactly she saw in it but every now and then she'd look up and tell him in a soft voice how beautiful he was. If Uther were to describe it he'd have said it was the least beautiful thing he'd ever seen, perhaps this was their punishment for conceiving with the use of magic, to have a hideous child. But no, their punishment was that Igraine was inches from death. Gaius had predicted she'd last two weeks at most. He sighed heavily and stood, pressed a kiss to her forehead and then looked down at the cot with a disgusted sneer. Noticing, Igraine gripped his hand, he could feel how weakness in the simple gesture and smiled sadly down at her._

"_I would willingly give my life to give you what you wanted. You wanted an heir, Uther and if I managed that then I will die happy."_

"_You shouldn't die at all. I should have Gaius's head, he failed."_

"_No…" She breathed and smiled at him again, he sat down beside her as she pulled gently at her hand. She kissed his knuckle, her lips felt chapped and sore, so unusual. "It was no ones fault, Gaius did his best and he has done so well. He's here Uther, look at him. Your son and he is healthy and perfect… Gaius helped do that, he never failed."_

_He hated that she was whispering like that, it was further proof of her weakness and it stabbed at his heart a little more._

"_You'll take care of him, keep him safe."_

He'd failed in that respect, keeping him safe. Arthur was alive but how many times had he seen him to his near death? Sent him out to battle and practically shoved him into competition with remarks of 'Make me Proud' rather than 'Good Luck'. He truly was just the boy's king and nothing more, in fact Gaius had a bigger part in Arthur's life than he did; it had always been Gaius who had sat with him whilst he was sick. Well, from now on it would be him. He sighed heavily, weighed down by sleep but determined to stay here. Arthur shifted in his arms, his sweaty forehead grinding into Uther's cloak.

The old physician had still not shown his face and it was frustrating Uther more than he could really say, he could feel his son's life dying and he was powerless to stop it, just as he had been when Morgana had, had the sense to throw him the sword in the arena or when the idiot serving boy had been the one pulling Arthur out the way…

Finally the doors burst open and Gaius and his accomplice were pounding through. "Your highness." The elderly man bowed and spotting this, the boy copied. He'd have rolled his eyes but he hadn't the strength, instead he turned to his son, gently pushed him back to the bed and ignored all cries of protest, then stood up and made his way to the physician.

"Well? Your diagnosis."

"I have yet to find one Milord. But I shall need to check Arthur over again; I pray he has physical signs of what is causing his ill."

He nodded to Merlin and Uther watched as the servant boy reached Merlin, raised his sleeves and ran his fingers over pale skin, skin that was unmarked by any apparent rash. "No lumps either." The boy whispered.

"Look at his chest and back, you are looking out for red marks or anything out of the ordinary." The boy nodded and began peeling Arthur's red shirt from his body. Uther watched in mild interest then diverted his eyes away, ignoring with all his might as Arthur cried out in agony, he also ignored the way the serving boy looked nervously at the two older men before wrapping his arms around Arthur's chest and hugging him ever so slightly as he checked over every inch of the princes back.

"Well, anything?" Uther snapped impatiently and the boy shook his head sadly and lowered Arthur back to the bed without replacing his shirt. "He'll freeze."

"Sorry?"

"You insolent child!" He growled loudly, "His clothing!"

"Oh, right."

He moves away and from the closet he grabs a clean shirt and takes it back to the four poster bed, avoiding the King's glaring grey eyes and instead moving toward the once again, unconscious prince. He slides Arthur's arms through the navy fabric, buttons it gently and then moves away to let him rest.

"Now what?" The boy asked Gaius, the elderly man looked sadly at Arthur. Sweat stuck his blond hair to his face, making it darker than it naturally was, and his breath was ragged as he twisted and turned in the sheets.

"What was the last thing he drank or ate?"

"Everything served in the feast, He had the same food as everyone else and no one else is ill, and no one touched his plate. I was with him the whole time, I would have seen."

Uther nodded him as Gaius placed a hand on his shoulder; Merlin looked up at Gaius, looking so defeated. Then a light of sudden dawning came upon him and Uther straightened.

"What is it, Merlin?" The physician inquired, looking at the kid in the strange, inquisitive stare he had mastered so well over the years, his lips pursing.

"Is it…. Is it possible Arthur could have been poisoned without swallowing anything?" He was frowning, staring questioningly at Gaius who thought hard before finally nodding slowly, drawling his answer in a deep growl like noise.

"Yes, possible but doubtful. Why?"

Uther remained silent as he crossed the room and sat on the edge of the bed, his hand out and placed gently over Arthur's hand as the boy tossed around, the sheets now being pushed downward as his teeth chattered against a non-existent chill.

"Well, we went hunting this afternoon… He caught his leg on something and scratched himself."

"I wasn't told this?"

"No, well, he said there was no point and it was just a scratch but maybe…"

"Nobody gets poisoned being scratched but brambles."

"What if it was something else? In the brambles?"

Merlin races to Arthur again, pulls up the leg of his breeches and shows the cut. Gaius inspects it, just as he looks up, "Merlin, if this cut poisoned him, the effects would have started before supper."

The child nods and sighs heavily, clearly out of ideas.

He wants to panic, to yell and scream until Gaius finds a cure but there is nothing to do but sit and wait Hope and Pray that Arthur fights whatever is causing this pain. At that, the blond prince sits up bolt right, his breathing heavier than ever, sweat dripping from every pore. His blue eyes gaze around the room, his chest seems heavy as his laboured breathing causes his whole body to tremble. Uther reaches out to him, touches his arm but Arthur doesn't turn to him. Instead he chokes, it seems an effort to keep his head up and his forehead is scrunched up.

"Help." His voice sounds so pitiful it breaks Uther's heart; he's reminded of Igraine, reminded of how pale her skin had looked, how sweaty her brow had been.

_Arthur had been moved to a nursery, his crying had taken the energy from Igraine and Uther had hoped if she got her energy back she'd fight back, but it was barely a week when he had walked into the large, warm nursery as he did every evening. It had become like a ritual now; fetch Arthur, take him to Igraine, who was now too weak to walk herself. But as he entered the first thing he noticed was the lack of babyish squeals or the whispering of the wet-nurse. In fact it seemed empty and frowning he stepped further in. He couldn't return to his chambers empty handed. It was Arthur gurgling that brought his attention to the large comfortable, cushioned chair by the fire, the one usually occupied by their hired nurse. However, Igraine was slumped in it._

_He inhaled sharply, she was so still and unmoving and in her arms, Arthur lay just as peaceful, his eyes lids fluttered ever so slightly and his hands were fisted in his mother's robes. She, with a smile on her face was wrapped around her son, her chin resting gently against the soft top of Arthur's head, the small, fine blond strands tickling her jaw line._

_He didn't need Gaius to tell him that his wife was dead. He could see it in the sereneness of her features. Nobody could look so peaceful, not even his beautiful wife._

_With strength he didn't know he had, not strength like this anyway, Uther swept forward, knelt before her and took her cold hand in his, prying it away from the cotton their son was bundled in._

"_Oh, my sweet wife." He cried, cold, icy tears slipping down his cheeks as he brushed his lips over her hand before standing, kissing her forehead with the softness she had always loved in him. He brushed a hand over her paled cheek then moved it to the sleeping prince, he was so small and so naïve, he didn't know he lay in the embrace of death and it one last moment of weakness, Uther couldn't bare to pull him away from the last hug his mother would ever give him._

_Instead he stepped to the door, opened it as quietly could, as though afraid he'd wake the sleeping pair by the fire. He granted them one last look before stepping into the corridor, his chin up, jaw clenched tight, his eyes focused on one particular bit of wall._

"_Guards!"_

"_Yes, my liege?"_

_He gasped, sucking in one last breath, "Fetch Gaius, tell him the Queen has passed away, his assistance will be required. When it is done, bring me Prince Arthur to my chambers." His tone was so matter-of-fact, so calm and stern that it shook his men, the abruptness of it and the seemingly uncaring exterior._

_And he turned and left abruptly. He wouldn't cry here, not in front of these people. He wouldn't show weakness, because he couldn't. Not ever._

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"_Sire?"_

_Uther looked up, he had managed so far to maintain himself, other than the tears he had shed at her side, he managed to keep himself cool. He still expected guards after all, and Arthur would have been fed by now… That was why there were here._

_He opened the door and took the boy from the arms of Sir Orion Canterbury before speaking in the same, distant and cold tone._

"_No one is to come by here tonight. Not for anything. I shall not have Guards by my door, the nurse is to stay away, Arthur will not need feeding again tonight and I shall care for him, he has all he needs here. You are to tell the others immediately._

_I want no interruptions."_

_With that he closed the door; Arthur curled up in one arm. Only once it was locked and bolted did he shed the first of his emotion, it startled the baby but he simply brushed a hand over the baby's heart and smiled down at it._

"_Come along now,"_

_And he had for the first time in his life, sat down in his arm chair, baby pressed against his chest just as Igraine had downstairs, and cried heavily for most of the night with Arthur sleeping and crying alternatively._

"Hurts… Head hurts…" he cried out and he sounded like a boy of three rather than a man of eighteen.

Uther reached out, wishing that Igraine's death had not been the last time he had let himself so close to his son. He swallowed hard, wrapped his arms around Arthur and pulled him once again, against his chest.

"What do we do?" He whispered, the fear was so evident but he didn't care, he couldn't care. He was going to lose his son and that was the one thing he couldn't cope with.

"I'm afraid until an illness is apparent. There is nothing we can do."

"We can't let him die!" Uther looked up as Merlin snapped at Gaius, he'd never heard anyone speak like that to and elder and certainly not a servant, however he was inclined to agree.

"No. We can't." Gaius agreed. "But there is nothing neither I nor anyone else can do yet. We'll just have to pray Arthur is strong enough to fight it off till we find out what has happened to him."

Against this chest, Arthur mumbled something incoherent and Uther stroked his back carefully, willing his son to live with every fibre of his being.

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_Chapter four soon..._


	4. Chapter 4

_Sorry I've kept you all waiting. :( It's been essay after essay after novel and Course books to read for ages now; barely had time to write. So here this is. It's terrible and I think it's been slightly rushed, no matter what I do to alter it. _

_Thanks to everyone who reviewed and/or added this to their story alerts! I love it, thanks! xD_

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For the next two days it was much the same and Gaius had finally decided that all that was wrong was a fever and had been forcing horrid looking concoctions down his throat while Arthur choked on them in his sleep. Uther, though not thoroughly convinced had finally reasoned that him being around wasn't going to amend the situation and had retreated to his rooms on the proviso he was informed the minuet there was any change. So it was at this moment in time that he was sat beside the fire grate, his head resting wearily against his hand as he sat awkwardly in the high-backed chair awaiting the much needed relief of some answers. This past week had resulted in now regular assaults of memories he'd wished would melt away. He knew he'd never made a good father, knew Arthur had skulked around in his shadow hoping to impress him and he'd never given him any sign that he ever had. He'd treated him like a servant, just another Knight he had to train. He remembered a five year old Arthur, wooden replica of a sword in hand, swinging wildly at a full grown Knight, Uther sat on the sidelines watching in amusement and the nurse beside him gasping and yelping every time Arthur fell or suffered a blow.

He remembered worst off all Arthur's terrified expression the first time he had witnessed death and instead of giving him the comfort he'd needed most, Uther had snapped at him and pushed him away.

_The dusk was creating a mild drop in temperature and Arthur was shivering beside him; his red jacket and black scarf doing nothing to prevent the chill. His blond locks were all over the place, covering his blue eyes and then being promptly blown away by another harsh blast of wind. He was only six years old, he was smaller than most boys his age and his cheeks were rosy from the cold, in Uther's opinion he looked the farthest thing from a fearsome King that he would someday have to be. His hands were wrapped around the thick stone of the balcony as he watched with wide eyes as the accused sorcerer was brought to the stage and thrust to his knees with a hard knock to his back._

_Uther had looked down at him with cool eyes, waiting for the reaction he hoped would scare any childishness out of him._

"_This man has beseeched the laws of Camelot and has used magic to go against the natural ways of our Kingdom. For this he must be punished and Sorcery is punishable by death. Let this serve as a warning to others."_

_He waved his hand stiffly then, he grit his teeth, eyes focussed on Arthur who was still staring with the look of all naïve children. Seemingly unaware of what was about to happen. He heard the axe drop but even if he hadn't, he'd have known that the servant was dead._

_Arthur's mouth had dropped open to form a perfect 'O', his eyes forming a similar pose. He let out a gasp and then a whimper and behind him a fretting nurse had run forward and stooped beside him, dragging his delicate eyes away from the bloody sight below._

"_Leave him. He must learn." Uther commanded and gripped the child by the shoulder, away from the woman who was now staring in shock at Uther, her hands falling from the young Prince._

"_This is what we must do to protect ourselves. Do you understand?"_

_Arthur had shook his head so violently, Uther had feared it would drop off of his neck._

"_Magic is evil, it can not exist. This is not the last death you'll see." And with that, the King had pushed Arthur away who had promptly spun toward his plump nurse and had thrown his arms up, she embraced him, picked him up swiftly and moved with the speed and agility a woman of her body should not have managed so easily. Her mutterings of: "There, there sweet child." Were not unheard by any of the Royal Guard._

_It had been upon passing Arthur's chambers later that night that Uther had any real sense of what he had inflicted on his small son. The doors were open enough for the room to be in plain view, the fire was roaring in its grate and Arthur was stood before it, his nurse was knelt before him. His chest was bare and his small, thin arms up in the air whilst she ran an old wet rag over his arms and torso. He'd make a small childish giggle every time she hit a sensitive area which promptly resulted in her having to hold his arm up with force. Uther allowed himself a smile and just as he was about to carry on a tiny voice caught his ears._

"_Was he really magic?"_

"_I don't know, child."_

_  
"Is magic really evil?"_

"_Yes it is. Magic only does bad things, he wanted to cheat and he used magic to get things that the rest of us must earn."_

_Uther felt quite proud at that, he'd picked a nurse who would enforce all his own ideals into his impressionable son._

"_But why does it only do bad things?"_

"_Because it's for greedy people who want to have advantage over everyone else." The nurse confirmed and Arthur fell silent then spoke up again, his voice more determined now._

"_If he had magic, why did he not use it to get away?"_

"_I don't know. No more talk like this. Fetch your night-clothes." And the scampering of tiny feet on hard floor could be heard and Uther stepped closer to the door, keeping his son in sight as Arthur grabbed a fist full of bright red material and then turned and ran back to his nurse, who was twisting out water from the rag and then balancing it on the side of the bucket she had been using to wash Arthur down._

"_If I had magic, I'd use it to make all the vegetables disappear!" Arthur's childish voice exclaimed and despite the matter of which his son was talking of, he found himself smiling, a bubble of laughter forming and then stopping in this throat. _

_Igraine, at least would have found this amusing. They would have laughed about it in their chamber, Arthur would be on the bed beside his mother explaining that magic could be used to make distasteful things disappear and his wife would sit, comb his hair and agree while sharing secret smiles with Uther._

"_Do not talk of such things, your father would never hear of it!" She snapped and Arthur had the decency to look slightly ashamed._

"_If you had magic, would you make the vegetables go too?"_

_Finally a small smile broke over the plump woman's face, her curly brown hair bounced around her rosy cheeks and she lowered her voice but it still managed to carry to Uther's sharp ears._

"_No, I'd use it to make naughty little boys behave." She stuck her tongue out at him before instructing him to lift his arms once more as she pushed his night-shirt over his blond head. Then tapped the back of his legs and he leaned forward into her as she prised away his dirty trousers and discarded them to the side. Arthur stood up again and waited as she rummaged with a clean bucket of water and the rag, before bringing it back down to wash Arthur's lower body._

_Uther stepped away, the discussion was over but even as he took the first few steps he was too late to miss the next words out of his son's mouth._

"_Nana, I don't want to say goodnight to Father, today."_

_Clenching his eyes shut and moving away swiftly; not wanting to hear his son being forced into seeing him, Uther made his exit and stepped into his own chambers, not failing to notice the evasive way Arthur stepped in, shuffled around for a bit and clung to his nurse as though she were his life guard. The way he avoided kissing Uther's cheek and instead settling to hang his head and waiting to be told he could leave._

"Sire?" The persistent knocking resembled the steady beat growing in his temples. He allowed a moment to compose himself before straightening in his throne and answering in a slow but still very royal drawl.

"Enter."

"I've been told you inform you that your son's temperature has dropped and that he is expected to wake up soon, if not already."

Uther smiled and stood. "Thank you." The Guard looked stunned a moment, then bowed in respect and stood up.

*

"He'll be weak for a while; he won't be doing any fighting or strenuous activity for some time." Gaius informed him as they stepped into the warm chambers. The door clicked shut but it didn't distract the two boys at the bed.

The room was warm, the fire was high in its grate and something scented assaulted his nostrils but Gaius offered no explanation. The bed was curtained off, the thick red velvet hung covering the occupants from view but their loud voices could still be heard.

"You mean to tell me, you have left me in these close the entire time I was unconscious?" Arthur's voice was cracked and unused but it still held the smallest of contempt for his servant, a sarcastic groan about his entire being.

"No… I changed your shirt."

Arthur didn't answer but evidently he had tried to hit his manservant, for the boy stepped back so far that his shape dented the curtain's, the curve of his back sticking out as he bent over, his laughter clouded the room. Arthur's comments went unheard.

With the air of amusement one should never take with his master, the idiot boy taunted, "Gaius said rest."

"I can't rest when I'm the hands of complete buffoon!" Arthur hissed through his teeth and the bed creaked and groaned as he slipped back down, already tired out from just that.

"Why did you just change my shirt?" Arthur grumbled.

"Well, you fainted so it was dirty." This was followed by silence, then more creaking and a small yelp. Evidently Arthur had sat up and pulled his servant down closer to his eye level.

"I. Did. Not. Faint." Each word was heavily punctuated and Gaius, beside him, chuckled quietly and still the boys did not notice.

"What would you call it then?"

"Well, I fell unconscious…"

"You mean you fainted?"

"Merlin-!" Arthur growled.

As amusing as Gaius seemed to find the banter, Uther had not spent hours wondering what was going on to then stand in a room that smelled like Morgana's perfumed flowers and listen to nonsense.

"Enough." Uther spoke sharply and Merlin's paled, pointed face stuck out from the curtains, he smiled weakly and pushed the drapes apart before bowing his head and stepping away from Arthur.

Arthur was indeed sat up. His blond head was tasselled, he looked sickly pale and thinner than he should have been and his eyes looked tired despite them having been sleeping for the better part of this week.

"You are feeling better, I trust?"

He would have liked nothing better than have moved to hug his son, let him know how pleased he was just to see those eyes finally looking up at him, just to hear his voice then had been a blessing, but instead he stood there, stiff and distant. His heads were behind his back, clasped tightly. Arthur nodded, a small smile flickering over his features for a split second.

"Yeah. Tired."

"Gaius said that was to be expected." Uther answered, he missed Merlin's confused frown and the quizzical look he sent Gaius and the way the physician glared back and shook his head sternly. "As soon as you are feeling up to it, be sure to inform your servant here," He spared a glance at the boy who looked bemusedly back at him for a moment; "You'll be expected to get back to your duties as soon as you are able."

Arthur's mouth opened, then shut promptly and he nodded instead. Arthur flopped back into the bed the moment Uther turned away, but the motion was far from noiseless, the sounds echoed in his ears even as he strolled out, Gaius falling not far behind.

He smiled then as he closed the door to his chambers, he had looked strange, Arthur was rarely ill, he'd caught a cold maybe once or twice and had, had fevers before as well, but he'd looked quite so much like death as he had. But what did it matter now? He was awake, finally. Gaius had said he'd be back to full health within the week…

* * *

**A.N One more chapter to go! It'll be in Arthur's POV though, :)**


	5. Chapter 5

So, here it is. The last installment! Read my A.N at the bottom of the chapter please?

Oh, btw. I didn't think Arthur knew that Merlin doesn't know his dad and I took out that piece of conversation, so just a note there in case anyone thinks I was being an idiot.

* * *

"He was worried, you know?" Merlin's voice from across the room catches his attention and slowly, Arthur turns his head to stare at his manservant.

He's been awake for at least a day, though he wasn't entirely sure, he's been condemned to stay in bed and true to his word; he's stayed there. Apart from the necessary trips to the chamber pot but all the same, he's been stuck in his bed staring at the same four walls for too long, he is uncomfortable from stiffness due to having not moved around enough, his hair feels greasy, despite Merlin having washed it when he woke and he feels a constant chill, again from lack of movement.

Not to mention the fact he is _complete_ and **utterly** bored.

"What?" He asks, eyes closing. He is exhausted; it's ridiculous because he hasn't done anything to warrant it. He's trained for twelve hours straight and only been slightly tired before.

"Your father." Merlin answered, the matter-of-fact tone triggers the usual annoyance in Arthur but he doesn't even have the strength to drawl at him for his stupidity.

"Of course he was, Merlin. I'm the Prince; if I die then the throne goes to a different family." He answers like it was the most natural thing in the world, he should have said 'Well he is my father', but King's were different than say, Merlin's father, Merlin wasn't a prince so he got love not encouragement for battle. Uther wanted nothing more than for Arthur to be good enough to be King, he had expectations. Arthur was merely born out of need, not want.

Merlin shook his head and stepped closer, Arthur watched him tiredly, head plastered against the comfortably warm pillows.

"No. He stayed with you most of the time; he was hugging you at one point."

Arthur was gob smacked at that, it was one of those rare occasions that he was left utterly speechless. Finally, Merlin cracks a smile at him.

"You're surprised your father cares about you?"

"Shut up." He snarls and turned away, his father has never _hugged _him in his entire life, not that he could recall at any rate, so why would he break a habit like that in front of Merlin?

"Morgana was here too." Merlin continued, seemingly unaffected by his master's command. Arthur turned his head back to face Merlin, looking genuinely interested.

*

"I can't believe I fainted in front of an entire congregation of Noblemen!" He suddenly exclaims, he looked furious at himself; then his attentions turn to Merlin as though to blame him.

"And then to get carried like a maiden through the castle by your father… Must have been humiliating?"

The prince glares and pushes himself up onto his elbows to get a better look at his servant. "It is!" Then a small smirk forms on his face and he fell back into the bed, staring up at the ceiling.

"But at least I wasn't carried through a feast full of foreign Knights and then lugged across the Court yard in plain view of the whole city, by a dashing Prince."

Merlin scoffs, much to Arthur's annoyance and he isn't sure whether he is laughing at the comment or the statement of his own good looks. "Yeah, but I was poisoned, saving you from being poisoned. You_ fainted_."

The smirk is replaced by a glare and an appropriately stony expression.

"Get back to tidying this place. It's a dump; Lord knows why I put up with such a crappy Servant."

Merlin moves away, looking as equally aggravated, muttering under his breath as he went about picking up various assortments of clothing. He stops a few minuets later and treads careful steps back toward Arthur's bed. The Prince is lying in the middle of it; his head crowned with various red pillows, the velvet drapes are hung loosely from their yellow binds and the covers are pulled right up to his chest, his shoulders are covered in a navy coloured shirt and his tired eyes and paled face make the pink of his lips look brighter in contrast.

"What?" He croaks after a second of allowing Merlin to stare.

"I thought you were going to die." He answers honestly and drops the clothes onto the end of the bed; he folds them neatly, considering this is Merlin. His head is now bent, staring determinedly at his chore.

"Oh." Is all Arthur can answer with, he remains quiet for a while longer and then speaks again. "I was that sick?" Merlin nods, then looks up at him and is wearing that silly grin.

"You're better now though, right?"

"I guess." Merlin chuckles softly and takes the folded clothing over to a drawer at the end of the room. "You look tired, Merlin."

The servant shrugs and turns. "You wanted this tidy…"

"Come back tomorrow and finish it." It was one of those rare moments when Arthur acted as more of a friend than the giant arse Merlin makes him out to be. With a final nod, Merlin turns on his heel, closes the drawer as quietly as he can and makes to leave. As he reaches the door he hears Arthur call out.

"Thanks."

It was on the tip of his tongue to ask what he was being thanked for but after a moment's hesitation he smiles, and leaves. Arthur stares at the door for ages after the door has shut and the echo of the snap dies down. Maybe his servant wasn't the best at his job, but he somehow managed to brighten up his day. He half wished he hadn't been so kind and let him leave early but even without answering, he knew that his father and Morgana weren't the only ones worried, he had seen it written plainly over his face the very second he'd woken up.

*

"Are you sure you are alright to ride?" Merlin asked for the tenth time as they made they way, albeit slowly, down to the stables. Arthur was still a sickly pale colour and his eyes didn't possess the usual gleam and he shook in the cold a lot more than he usually did.

"I'm fine." He gritted out, his gloved hands clenched tightly at his sides. Merlin shrugs at him and readies the horse, they both pretend not to notice the way Uther's dark eyes watch Arthur's every move or the way Morgana has insisted she be allowed to come along for the lap of the Kingdom. Arthur had grumbled about it for hours the day before when he had first found out but now he merely roles his eyes, snatches the reins from Merlin's grip and then pulls himself up. He sits still for a moment, catching his breath then turns to Merlin with his best 'I'm in charge' stare.

"I expect my rooms to be spotless upon my arrival."

"Sire." Merlin replies, the sarcasm oozes.

Arthur smirks, digs his heels sharply into the horses hind and charges off, kicking up straw as he moves speedily toward the exit. Glad to be free. Uther stares at him as he passes before kicking his own horse into action, as Morgana passes she smiles down at Merlin.

"I'll keep him safe, shall I?" She laughs and he knows she wants nothing more than to be able to tease Arthur mercilessly once he is fully recovered. He nods at her, matching her grin and as she canters off after the two men, the Guard already ahead. Merlin watches after then turns slowly and makes his way back to Arthur's vacated chambers with a small smile.

* * *

Eeek! So it's done. This is the first fic I've ever wrote to get such positive responses and you have no idea how happy I am. Every time I open my emails and see Story, Author and review alerts and get all squealy! You really do make my day, I love reading your responses! So thank you so much for sticking with it for so long!

I've got loads more stories planned and I hope you enjoy them too. I wanted to know what people would think of a Hunith/Merlin fiction. Would anyone be interested in reading that?


	6. Epilogue

**This story is based on the Trailers for next week. I have read the spoilers briefly some time ago and I promise there is nothing in here that isn't evident from the Trailers of Le Morte D'Arthur (Ep.13). You have been warned but if you watch the trailers you have basically seen what I am writing about.**

**This chapter is very Angst-ridden because I felt like it. This is my take on what we see, it by no means, means this is the accurate ending to the series. I very much doubt in fact their version is like this. But as I said, I like Angst and Uther's face was just too perfect for this chapter not to be added.**

**This was supposed to be a One-Shot so I don't know how it came to be so long. lol. :) I hope you enjoy.**

**Scroll down if you want to read this.**

**Warnings: CHARACTER DEATH.**

**EXTRA: I couldn't resist, we needed a new chapter..**

He was sure Arthur had returned to full health as easily as he had fallen sick. It had been a matter of a few days and colour had returned to the sunken cheeks and once he'd started eating properly not long after, he'd been back out training, hunting and had been so active Gaius had thought he'd collapse from sheer exhaustion. Uther however had never been so pleased; they'd had twice the amount of deer they needed to feed on for a whole month of meals, and at least five times that in Peasant. He wasn't foolish enough to think he was just a lot healthier, he knew it was because the prince had never been subjected to stay in bed for so long, he wasn't used to being told what to do and he had seen that boredom had overcome him. So, it had been with that knowledge that he had sent Arthur out on his first order outside the gates of Camelot. In fact, he'd sent him far into the woods, to a cave on the East borderline. Arthur had gone almost willingly, Knights and servant in toe. But that had been almost five hours ago…

Arthur never failed him, he'd likely not caught the beast and the boy knew better than to come back empty handed. Uther had no doubt his son was hammering the final nail in the creature's coffin. The throne room seemed oddly quiet though, he hadn't permit Arthur to stray far from the castle and just to avoid his room, had taken to listening more intently to Kingdom discussions and following his father around trying to get as many orders out of him as possible. Perhaps being sick more often wouldn't do him any harm at all. He smiled wryly and passed through the doors, his red robe blowing up behind him with impressive elegance.

He'd only made it to the first step when the first scream reached him. He paused and drew his sword, the usual cautiousness taking over; maybe the beast had evaded the Knights and had made it to Camelot? It had been here only the day before had it not? A second scream and Uther turned to the nearest Guard. "Find out what is going on." The simple command was spoken with the sincerest aggravation and he continued to his room, he'd be called if it were important, perhaps a peasant had died and the remaining family were in shock? It seemed a reasonable explanation, death wasn't uncommon. He'd reached his corridor when a scarcely dressed woman threw herself at him, clinging to him, sobbing desperately.

"MORGANA!" He yelled in the mere surprise. "Calm child. You are like a wild animal. What's troubling you?"

She shook her head; her hair fell in curls around her abnormally pale face.

"Arthur. You need to find Arthur." She cried. She looked so terrified a sudden shard of terror struck his own heart and he stumbled back from her weight.

"Why do you say this? What have you heard?"

"I dreamt it. Uther, he's going to die, you must call him back."

At that, a warm smile graced his lips and he stepped forward again, one hand reaching out to stroke her cheek. "It was just a dream, come child. We'll drink inside, calm your nerves." He turned with a role of his eyes, the momentary worry shaken. Her dreams, she'd always had nightmares, always imagined death and had it come? No, not once. He had figured it was just a side affect of her father's untimely death, the poor child that she was.

She was still sobbing, making desperate gasping sounds and begging to be understood. He soothed her for as much as he could take it, then sent for Gaius and had her taken away. Such a worrier, there was nothing to worry over. He smiled again and turned his attentions to the window. She'd soon see; Arthur would be back before Nightfall…

**

"… You claim then, that the west villagers are under guard?"

"Yes sire. Our men have taken defence along the outer boarders, making sure their men do not cross our boarders."

"Very good. I would like notice as soon as the battle is won."

"Right, My Lord."

The Knight sat down, his greying beard tucked under chain mail, stretched as his head bobbled. Another stood, third in a long line of even longer speech givers; all with propositions on war and defence methods.

With a wave of his hand, the King motioned the younger man speak, he did so with a nod of his head and continued on about the importance of preserving food, "should we suffer another, greater famine." Uther barely listened. He was more interested in the face that dusk would soon approach and then the night. It was dangerous to lurk long in the forests, Arthur and his men should have returned.

It felt like hours later when the man finally sat and just as another rose, the door opened with a loud bang, he'd have reprimanded the guardsmen but he looked somewhat panicked as he entered.

"My Lord, the Prince is back." Uther smiled, nodded and made to wave him away but the guardsmen looked set to continue, his face still postured with that dismal, scarred look.

"They carry a body, milord."

That caught his attention, he looked up, mouth forming the question. "Whose?"

"They are too far to tell, I shall bring news as soon as I can." The man left, the door closed and Uther turned to his men.

"A terrible shame, I sent our best fighters to kill that creature." A nervous laughter racketed the hall. "Continue." He gestured the man who was half raised from his seat.

"Thank you Milord. I'm proposing the rise of-"

But Uther never found out what had been intended, screams, lots of it from all angles it seemed.

"What the devil is going on?" Silence greeted him.

"_The Prince! The Prince…"_ More screams and Uther frowned, when had anyone greeted him like that? He'd not heard such yells toward his son before.

A ghostly looking guard entered. Face ashen.

"Sire-"

He didn't need the sentence spoken. That terror returned; shards of glass seemed to claw at his insides, hot sickness pressing in his stomach. Before he'd even allowed excuse, Uther ran from the Chambers, toward the main door.

**

He wasn't even sure if there was screaming, he couldn't hear anything apart from buzzing, silence and then more buzzes. He felt dizzy and ill. His son's body lay on the shoulders of six men, he looked as though on the crucifix, head hanging low and arms flopped out carelessly.

He could feel the stinging in his eyes as they carried him across the Courtyard. Their heads bowed as they stepped forth. He felt Gaius beside him but couldn't turn to him. His eyes were fixed on Arthur. The blond hair filthy with mud, his face streaked in blood and his armour stained crimson. He couldn't breathe, couldn't think. How was this even possible, it was just a beast! An animal!

Gaius's earlier words swum in his head and the hotness in his stomach seemed to bubble up.

"_If struck by the beast, the victim is doomed to death for there is no cure for such a venom."_

Then Morgana's sobs maintaining that Arthur was dead, or to die, and here he was… Dead.

"No, my Boy!" he managed to choke and stepped forward blindly to meet them. His eyes saw the servant, shell shocked, soaked in blood and tears, move away and crash to the floor some yards away. "No." He repeated, they lowered Arthur's body to his feet and Uther sunk there. Knee's colliding to the floor in such an unkingly manner.

Not one word was spoken as Uther dragged Arthur's body up, cradling him like he were a small child. His tears falling freely, who cared about dignity now? He'd lost his wife already, what unjust world would take his son too? Through his shaking sobs he barely registered the many eyes on him. Knights, Servants, Noblemen, Townspeople, they were all there, watching, waiting, staring in shock. Whether at the fallen Prince or the broken King, he was unsure.

He wasn't sure how long he knelt there. Arthur's cold body pressed to him, he tried to remind himself he had been like this with that curious malady. Who was to say he was not suffering that now? But just looking at Arthur he could tell. There was no life, no nothing in Arthur. His eyes closed, face buried in Arthur's hair.

It was only at the metallic sounds of swords being drawn did he look up. Face wretched and blotched, eyes fogged with unshed tears.

_Her._

Her, smiling, leering, smug. He had no strength to fight her and simply stared, she seemed oblivious to the many swords pointed her way. Her head tilted at Arthur and she grinned wickedly.

"You said you did not want a son, I was merely obliging to your wishes."

"Bring him back!" The command was strong and sharp; he was surprised he had that strength.

"I can not."

"I did not want him at the cost of Igraine's life! You tricked me. You knew what I meant and you knew how precious he was to me. She is dead, that is your revenge, not my son."

She continued to leer at him and stepped forward and crouched down; again oblivious to the army of people swarming her.

"What would you give to have him back?"

"Anything. Bring him back…"

She laughed again, loudly, cruelly. Uther flinched and clung to the blond harder, determined to keep him away from the manic woman before him.

"Your Kingdom?"

"He is worth more than any Kingdom."

She laughed icily again and it must have pierced every soul. "No magic can bring him back, Uther Pendragon. But are you so hypocritical that you would banish magic when it does not please you and then beg its return when you want something?"

Uther didn't answer, he couldn't because he knew she was right but he had never suspected for a moment he'd be holding his boy in the middle of a courtyard begging for magic to restore his life.

"If you do not bring my son back to me, your death will mark his revenge." The threat seemed empty and ridiculous, the usual order and strength seemed vanished.

Her bitter laugh reached his ears. "I brought him into this world." She stroked his hair and cheek, looking almost maternal as she moved her hands gently. "So I can take him just as easily." Her fingers turned than and scratched deep over the paled skin, bringing more blood to his perfect face.

He reached out to grab her hand, restrain her or do something, but she disappeared in smoke as though she had not been there at all.

It seemed the onlookers were paralysed to their places, for it seemed no one could breathe, sharing in the Prince's slumber.

"Arthur!" He looked up as Morgana, paled and dressed only in a slip. She repeated the Prince's name as she rushed forward and then crumbled opposite Uther, eyes staring in horror at the bloodied face. She looked just as sick as Uther felt, her shaking body leaning over the dead blond's, his blood soaking through her white lace gown.

"My dear..." Gaius's crooked voice pulled her from her shocked state and he bent over her, pulled her up by her arms and held her close as he moved her toward Gwen, who stood over Merlin, gaping in shock just as everyone else.

The attention returned to Uther as he picked Arthur up carefully, carrying him just as he had weeks before when he had collapsed during an evening feast. This time no steady heartbeat pulsed through his veins against Uther's hands. This time no uneven breath hit his face and neck.

The journey to Arthur's chambers seemed to take an age. Uther laid him on the mattress whilst Gaius pulled at the covers, dragging them down the bed. They pulled off his boots and threw to them to floor before once again, Gaius took a corner of the covers and pulled it, unfolding the hem so that it could be stretched over Arthur's face. The King bowed his head and knelt once more at his son's side, prayers he hadn't spoken since Igraine's death, whispered urgently under his breath.

"Come Merlin."

Uther ignored the footsteps of the Physician and his young ward leave, pretended not to notice the way one of them stopped at the door and paused for minuets before they continued, shutting the door behind him.

**

(MERIN POV)

"There has to be something! He can't die!"

"Merlin, he is already dead. There is no magic, good or evil, that will bring Arthur back. It is a sad fact but it is a true one."

Merlin was sat on the bench at the table, eyes staring unseeingly at the wooden table, his head had dropped the minuet Gaius had professed there to be no remedy to fix the untimely death of the Prince.

"He's supposed to be King." He whispered. "I was supposed to protect him so he could be King."

"Not even you can protect him every time." The reminder only served to annoy him further. He'd failed Arthur, he'd failed the King and Gaius; he'd failed his destiny and the Dragon. This whole Kingdom had been failed by his inability to protect the one person he was told to look out for. He scowled at the scratched and worn wood, anything to prevent more tears.

"Go wash yourself off."

He had forgotten he was still wearing Arthur's blood and as he looked down at himself he felt the vile rise in his throat. The beast had taken one swoop at Arthur and had knocked him unconscious; the venomous teeth had dug into his flesh before Merlin had even been able to prevent it; Venomous teeth that held no cure.

"Uther sent him, he knew it was dangerous and he still sent him!"

Gaius turned back to Merlin, mouth open as he tried to form the best answer.

"If the King knew for one second it would kill Arthur, you believe he would have sent his son?"

"Probably, doesn't usually seem to care where he sends Arthur, why not to the mouth of a monster?"

"You are speaking nonsense, Merlin. I know well how much Arthur means to him, how hard he tried to have him. Uther would not put him in real danger knowingly."

Merlin didn't answer, he couldn't at that moment; he no longer had any trust at all in Uther's decisions, if he'd ever had any in the first place. So he nodded instead and stood and moved to his room.

Arthur was really dead. Was really gone and would be buried, never to be remembered.

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**AN:: Again! This is not a spoiler of the actual programme. I have no idea how the series ends, if it ends like this I'd be shocked and distraught.**

* * *


End file.
